Just rocked up at ‘L’s and it’s all on, thank fuck. BT was clearly shitting himself so he sent one of his mates along instead. Anyway, looks like he fixed her up. Mental it took so long. How hard can it be? It’s not like the internet’s new or anything. This BT twat’s obviously on the blag.

Chuffed to be back to normal tho. ‘L’ gave me some bread bits soon as I turned up to make up for the whole debacle. Only snag was she didn’t tell me it was 100% rye, which turns out to be a bit like sucking on a brick. Just about managed to swallow a couple and told her I’d save the rest till later.

Since we got back from Brighton the weather seems to have taken a swift sharp turn for the better. About fucking time too. The sun’s been shining and everything. Nice. London rocks when the sun shines, especially during Legover.

Legover is the festival of all things related to getting down and dirty. I’m not sure if it’s just a pigeon thing or not? Someone told me once that voles had something similar, but I think theirs starts in June.

Legover lasts for about eight weeks and is the time when pigeons everywhere try to pack a poke as often as possible.

It used to be a polite permission based affair with only the unattached taking part. In recent years however, and particularly when the sun shines, it has become one massive shagfest free-for-all, which is a shame in some ways. Instead of it being used as a period of time dedicated to the search for the love of your life, nowadays it’s just loads of pigeons walking about with permanently fixed fruity grins sexing up anything that moves. Partners tend to forgive the wandering eye more readily at this time of year too, which only makes matters worse.

Here’s a scene typical of Legover.

First off he gives it the whole ‘look at me with my big muscly chest all puffed up.’ Typically she politely ignores him and continues to go about her business. Not surprised. Frankly, I reckon he’s gone a bit overboard on the chest front. I remember chatting to a bird last year who said a massive chest can be a right turn-off, which is a good thing seeing as mine has no muscle on it whatsoever.

If the extended chest doesn’t wet her feathers, more than likely he’ll chuck her a cheesy one-liner such as: “Hey, cute thing. Fancy celebrating Legover by joining me in some sweet hot juicy loving?”

Then, slightly shamed up by the fact she is still ignoring him, he’ll move in and start to hassle hard:

“Go on. It’s Legover afterall. Let me put it in you. It won’t take long… I’m good. Honest.”

The other thing the bird last year said was that if a pigeon overly extends his chest and then tells you he’s good at it, he’s usually shit.

To be honest, sun or no sun, I tend to give Legover the wide berth. It’s just too commercial these days and either full of nonces giving it large or filthy slags who can’t get enough. Not really my scene.

April 14, 2008. Uncategorized.

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